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what I get? I think staring up at the brilliant, twinkling sky above me. Yes, really, they seem to answer back.

I need to think of something quickly or I will be doubly screwed. There are now night runners in front of me with more coming up behind.

“Hey you! I’m over here you stupid assholes!” I yell across the tarmac almost without thinking, making my choice without really analyzing it. Well, I had to make a decision without really having a right decision to choose from, I think taking a deep breath and steeling myself for the next few moments.

The night runners around the aircraft halt in place, stopping immediately in whatever action they were in the middle of and look in my direction. As one, they yell and begin running quickly towards me. I begin running directly at them, the distance between us closing quickly. Running in front to the hangar and reaching the other side, I dart to my left, running down the side to the street and sidewalk in front of it. The chase continues.

*  *  * *  *  *

Robert sits in the co-pilot seat staring out across the ramp feeling worried. The night runners continue to surround the aircraft but he is not paying any attention to them. He stares off into the distance across the ramp hoping for some sign or indication that his dad is okay. Nic is looking out over his shoulder having donned her dad’s helmet and sliding the night vision goggles over her eyes. Bri quietly stares out of the same window into the darkness. Lynn is in the back briefing the teams and getting them ready to exit. She wants to go now and find Jack but knows that this would be futile. They would be in running battle from the very get go and put all of them in danger. Pacing up and down the cargo compartment is not easing her anxiety.

Time passes by but Robert is not aware of it as he continues staring into the night and hoping. Wanting to do something but not knowing what that something could possibly be. He is startled out of his thoughts, trying to come up with something, by the sudden, muffled but loud screams from the night runners around them. He looks down and sees them take off as one across the ramp, racing across the pavement away from them.

“Michelle, go get Lynn!” He turns and says quickly over his shoulder, turning his eyes immediately back to the ramp. He would have asked Bri or Nic to go but knows they are staring out and feeling the same worry and anxiety as him.

“What’s up?” Lynn says as she comes up behind Robert.

Robert answers by pointing outside of the aircraft, the dim light from the stars in the clear sky above illuminating the now empty ramp.

“They just left all at once,” Bri says after a brief pause.

Lynn looks out at the empty ramp and hope first swells and then falls. Hope that Jack now has a clear shot to the aircraft and fades because she thinks she knows what has caught the night runner’s attention and where they are headed.

“I’ll be in back with the teams ready to go. Notify me on our ground frequency if you see or hear anything else,” she says stepping out of the cockpit once again.

“Jack, are you out there? Answer me please,” Lynn says over her radio on re-entering the cargo area and notifying the teams to stand ready.

* * *

I hesitate before emerging completely from the side of the hangar. I see the street and sidewalk running perpendicular several feet in front of me, paralleling the ramp. My timing is going to be critical here if I can time this at all. I hear the sounds of the night runners coming up behind me on the ramp and know I have just a small amount of time before they close in. My concern is those that were initially following me. Emerging now will allow them to see me and put them far too close, allowing them to catch me before I can get remotely close to the aircraft and safety.

Peeking around the corner, I see the last of the night runners that were in trail behind me crossing the street to my left, following the path I took on the other side of the hangar. I want them all to cross before emerging and continuing on to my right. Plus, I want all of the night runners coming from the ramp side to enter into the route I just took alongside the hangar. If they venture down another path, I will run straight into them. That would not be a good thing and is the last thing I want right now.

The last of the night runners finally pass by and disappear down the far side of the hangar just as the night runners chasing me from the aircraft enter into the space behind me. I drop a prepared grenade by the corner and take off to my right. We are going to play a little loop-de-loop but I need a measure of distance. Plus, I need for those that were chasing me to follow along with the rules of the game; and those rules dictate that they are to stay behind and not try to circumvent me.

I run along the sidewalk lining the street, everything around me painted a yellow-green, well, more green than yellow. What I wouldn’t do for a set of generation 3 night vision goggles right now? I think as my radio comes alive.

“Jack, are you out there? Answer me please,” I hear Lynn say in my ear piece.

“I’m here. Get the side door ready to open,” I say breathlessly into the mic.

“Okay, Jack. Good to hear you,” she replies. “How long?”

The grenade goes off.

“Depends,” I say not wanting to spare breath for talking. I know when I used to run with a group, the others running next to me wanted to have a conversation. It was all I could do just breathe; talking was out of the question. Running and talking just do not mix well with me.

“On what?” She asks.

“On whether these bastards are going to do what I want them to and let me through. Call you when I’m close,” I respond. This last little bit just about expended all of my breath.

I glance behind and see the remnant of the night runners turn the corner and, with a cry of discovery, begin their chase in earnest. More follow behind but I direct my attention to my front and side, hoping that none of them come out in front of me. This merry little chase we have had this evening will come to a quick close if that happens; with me not coming out in first place. I race along the front of the building next to the hangar, planning to cut in toward the ramp when I reach the corner, provided of course that the path is not barred by, say, a horde of night runners pounding down it heading my way.

I ready my last grenade as I reach the corner with the night runners on the concrete close behind me. Turning the corner, I see the route to the tarmac empty of any reception committee and toss the grenade behind me, hoping it will land around the corner a little. I turn my speed up a notch but do not really gain much as all of my notches have been used up. The grenade goes off, sending its deadly shrapnel out into the midst of the night runners chasing after me. My toss must have been true as I am not blown forward nor do I feel the prickling of shrapnel entering my backside.

“Jack, we’re having trouble with the door. We don’t know how to open it,” Lynn says through the radio with a tone of worry and frustration.

“Fuck me! You’re kidding right!? You’d better figure it out and figure it out quickly. I’m coming out onto the ramp now,” I say frustrated at so simple a thing. I would give directions on how but I just don’t have any more wind for it. This last took the final vestige of my reaching down deep away. I am out of grenades, ideas, and options.

I race across the ramp toward the aircraft outlined in green. My boots pound across its concrete surface. Safety is close but seems so far. I glance over my shoulder to see the night runners just now rounding the corner of the building. I have some room and time and distance. They must have had some wariness about turning the corner after receiving so many of my gifts in doing so all night long. I run across the rear of the aircraft and up the left side. The crew door is lowering. I guess they figured it out, I think as the side of the 130 races by, my feet being forced to take the next steps, my legs aching and sore, the lactic acid that has been building all night is now making its presence known.

Just as I get close to the door, a night runner runs around the side from the nose. I am spent and my reaction time is slow as it rapidly closes the distance and slams into me, knocking me backward and to the ground. Where the fuck did that one come from? I think just before the impact.

I slam to the ground on my back, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of me. My M-4 is jarred from my grasp and clatters across the pavement. Using some of the momentum, I bring my knees up and roll over my left shoulder, reversing positions with the night runner. Ending up on its chest, I quickly jab sharply into its throat, feeling the cartilage break under my fist. I continue my stroke all of the way through, punching through its throat